Hell Bound
by Normryl
Summary: Final chapter in the collection with the Daryl/Governor twisted tale. Collection of mostly dark themed one shots. THIS IS THERM, I HAVE HAD A BRAND NAME CHANGE. ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Hell Bound**  
**Summary:** Collection of dark themed one shots. 'Don't want to let you down but I'm_ Hell bound_. I can't escape it now unless you show me how'  
**Warnings:** Darker themes, be warned.

* * *

"Daryl?"

The voice echoed round the narrow, empty hallways, finding Daryl where he took refuge away from the rest of the group.

He was in the shower room, having come down a while ago. He was supposed to get himself cleaned up, wipe away the last few days of dirt and grime from his body, but once he reached the peace and quiet in the depths of the prison, he found himself in no hurry to leave it.

Of course, he recognised the voice immediately and waited for Rick to show his face. The other man peaked through the door way, not sure what state of dress he'd find the man in and not wanting to impose. Seeing Daryl still fully dressed, Rick stepped fully into the room.

"You okay?" Rick asked, a twinge of concern creeping in his voice.

Having spent some time trying to convince Rick and Hershel he was just fine, the last thing he needed was to undo all of that work.

Daryl nodded briefly. "Kinda wanted some time away from those Woodbury people. Prying eyes and all."

Rick smiled, and nodded in understanding. "Well, we're going out into the fields. Secure some of the fences, lay some traps just outside the prison. So, when you get back, most of us we probably be out there. Just in case you're wondering where we are when you get back."

He knew what Rick meant was 'just in case you worry we've gone after The Governor'. So Daryl nodded and he expected Rick to leave with that. There was nothing else he could say really, but Rick hesitated.

"So... you want to help us out after you've finished?" Rick asked, pointing to the showers unneccesarily.

Daryl pulled a face and shook his head. "Think I'll hit the sack. I'm beat."

Rick smiled. It was tight and not quite right. _He doesn't believe you_, Daryl told himself and there must have been at least a flicker of the doubt on Daryl's face as Rick dropped his gaze and nodded. "I get it. You deserve a break."

And with that, Rick ducked back out of sight.

Not until Daryl heard the distant sound of the metal door closing further down the hall did Daryl move again, following Rick's movements to the door. He looked to make sure there was no sign of the man anywhere before he went back to the shower room and pulled his vest off.

The sleeveless shirt underneath had dark stains on them and he knew that the others hadn't seen them. If they had, things would be different.

Daryl undid the buttons on the front of his shirt and carefully pulled the material away from his body. It was stuck in place, the blood having dried, fusing skin to fabric with his own bodily fluids.

He was gentle as he could be, but after peeling away the front, there was no easy way to remove the back of the shirt and he had to just pull it away.

His eyes stung but he ignored the pain as best he could. He dropped the shirt down to the ground next to his vest. His hand lingered at his belt, the scars on his body standing out and he looked at what had been done to him.


	2. Chapter 2

These stories are all independent of one another unless otherwise stated.

* * *

Daryl stopped at his cell door, frozen at what he found inside.

Rick looked at him, a flush of embarrassment colouring his features as he stood up when he saw Daryl entering.

Daryl didn't ask what Rick was doing in his cell, he gave him that look. The one that expected an answer to the question you knew he was asking.

"With all the people from Woodbury..." Rick started.

Daryl knew what Rick was doing there. He was moving in.

And Daryl knew enough of how things between Rick and Carl were to know that those two bunking up wasn't an option. Daryl just nodded as he dropped his crossbow down on the floor and dropped himself onto the chair that sat by the door.

He ached. Bone deep.

The last few days had been heavy.

The night before they'd been at Woodbury, rescuing their people and finding Andrea, bitten and dying. And today they'd returned to the prison from Woodbury with all the people who had returned with them. Packing up supplies as they went.

He'd helped Michonne bury Andrea before a day full of getting the new people settled in and making some much needed repairs to the prison.

And before that there was Merle. But he didn't need to think about that.

"Top bunk mine?" Rick asked. Daryl nodded in response as he looked at the man briefly.

"You look like crap," Daryl told him, noticing how worn out he looked.

Rick pulled himself onto the top bunk not about to argue with Daryl's assessment of his physical appearance. "I suppose I do. You're not looking so hot yourself," Rick stated as Daryl rubbed his hand across his face tiredly.

"I'm beat," Daryl admitted, as he kicked at the heels of his boots and they hit the floor. Rick leaned over the bunk watching Daryl as he stretched his legs out before moving quickly over to the bottom bunk and disappearing from Rick's view. At least unless he wanted to lean off the top bunk and hang upside down.

He didn't think Daryl would appreciate that much though.

"I'm sorry," Rick stated.

"S'okay. Only so much space in the block," Daryl mumbled back.

"I meant about Merle." He hadn't said it before. He couldn't stand looking at Daryl and seeing the hurt in his face and knowing he was the cause of that pain. So when Daryl had returned alone days ago, he'd brushed off, let him have his space and had concentrated on what they needed to get done.

For Daryl, that was bury Merle. He'd been offered help, but he declined. It was his task to do.

For the others, it was to prepare for an attack.

Daryl had grown quiet since Rick mentioned Merle. maybe Daryl didn't want to talk about it, but Rick needed too. "It's my fault," he almost whispered. Daryl remained silent and he wondered if he'd even heard him. "Carl said. Lori, Merle... it was all my fault. Now Andrea."

"You don't control other people. Ain't your fault," Daryl reassured. "Merle was spoiling to get his hands on the Gov'nor before you gave him the chance too. He was looking for a reason, an excuse. Andrea choose to go back to Woodbury. She wanted too. Knew what she was doin', same as Merle did. Just was unlucky, s'all."

Rick felt some relief at Daryl's forgiveness. but he hadn't mentioned the one name he needed to hear. He needed forgiveness from anyone for the guilt he felt at Lori's death.

"I guess to Carl you are to blame. I mean, your his Dad. S'your job, right? Protect Mom and the kids. Ain't nothin' you wouldn't have done for her. Carl's just mad. Your his dad. Everything is your fault."

"You think so?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some fuckin' sleep."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Normal Now  
**Summary:** The Governor keeps Daryl to sate his needs.  
**Warnings**: This one is a M rating. Non/con, m/m rape. Yeah, it's a nice one!  
**Notes:** What can I say, sometimes I have to write something really nasty. *shrugs*

**Author's Note:** Forgive me.

* * *

It was so easy to get use to what life threw at you.  
An abusive childhood, getting a dead end job just to pay the bills because you were a Dixon, and no one really trusted you to do anything but grunt work.  
Hell, even the dead walking became a normal thing, given time.  
This was normal now.  
This was his life.  
He got used to it.

Pushed down against the wooden table, pants pooled around his ankles as the man behind him slammed into him. His hips repeatedly rammed into the corner of the table.  
He was used to it.  
He got used to it.

The Governor was the one behind him.  
It was only ever him.  
No one else was able to touch him.  
He'd been taken as a bargaining chip, a way for The Governor to get what he wanted. But then the prison group had fled and Daryl had been missing, presumed dead, so no one went to look for him.  
The group moved on.  
Left him behind.  
And they'd talked about killing him. No need to keep him around.  
But The Governor changed his mind.  
Looked Daryl up and down and decided he could be of some use.  
And this was it.  
The Governor's release.

Daryl felt the hot liquid release inside of him as The Governor came and he pulled out.  
Wetness dribbled out of him. Ran down his legs.  
He'd been humiliated the first few times.  
Now, he was used to it.  
He got used to it.

He knew to stay where he was afterwards.  
The Governor might not be finished with him yet.  
So he stayed bent over, on display as he heard The Governor move back to the chair and take a seat.  
He'd stay back there. Deciding on whether he wanted to take him again.  
Sometimes it was more than once more.  
More often than not, he got rougher.  
He didn't mind so much.  
He was used to it.  
Been used to rough treatment before this whole thing started.  
Not ever like this.  
But still. He'd never been treated well.

So it wasn't too hard to escape.  
To pretend he was somewhere else.  
He sometimes would pretend he was with the group somewhere.  
That he'd never been separated from them.  
If they didn't think he was dead, they'd look for him.  
Try and save him.  
But they didn't know.  
And he'd got used to it.

The only good thing about this was once The Governor was finished, he'd be fed.  
Never much.  
They'd never spare him much.  
Keep him alive, stop him getting too skinny.  
The Governor didn't like it when he'd got too lean.  
And he might be cleaned up too.  
That act usually consisted of someone throwing a bucket of water over him, but it felt good by now.  
He was used to it. It washed away the smell of the other man.  
If only for a little while.

He adjusted himself on the table, his legs weak. Pulled himself onto it a little more so his body took more weight than his legs.  
A shudder ran through him.  
The weakness, hunger, desperation. He'd never get away.  
He knew that.  
They'd keep him alive until The Governor bored of him.  
But so far, he hadn't.  
He didn't know how long he'd been here.  
Too long. It had been cold when they'd taken him, he remembered.  
And now his skin was flushed with warmth.  
He shuddered again.

And then he heard the chair creak behind him.  
The Governor was returning.  
A hand pushed onto his lower back as he felt the man push inside of him again.  
The hand slipped down to his hip as the other found the back of his neck, grabbed a handful of his long overgrown hair and pulled at it painfully.  
His thrusts were hard and fast, violent.  
And he tugged at Daryl's hair with each movement of his body, lifting the man's head slightly and pounding him back into the table.  
And as The Governor started to get close again, his hand moved to the back of Daryl's neck and he squeezed tightly. Squeezed until Daryl saw black spots dancing in his vision.

As he took his second load from The Governor that day he couldn't help but think of the others.  
What they were doing.  
Maybe they'd found somewhere to be safe.  
At least if The Governor had him, he wasn't consumed with finding the others again.  
So he could take it for them.  
If it kept them safe.  
Besides, by now, he was used to it.


	4. Chapter 4

This is one of those things I write which goes nowhere. So it can live here. Daryl/Carol friendship. Merle sadness. :(

* * *

When there were tasks to keep him busy, he was able to push aside those dark thoughts. He wore a mask, could pretend that everything was okay. That he was okay.

But during those dark hours, his thoughts went back to him. And it consumed him.

She watched it happen time and time again.

As the day darkened, his mood soured.

And he'd drift away from the others.

Mostly he'd go to his cell, lay on his bunk and fake sleep. Sometimes he went into the depth of the prison.

If he went there, she never followed.

And she didn't always follow him to his cell. Only if he acknowledged her before he slipped away, because she learnt that sometimes he just needed someone to be with him.

He didn't want to be alone all the time.

And there was no talking to Daryl when he was like this.

Not unless he wanted to talk.

She'd heard others make that mistake. Try to engage him in something as he left to be alone and his sharp retort would make them snap back. She'd heard him and Rick get into a row one time after he'd snapped at Carl, but Rick started to understand.

Knew that there was a time where Daryl needed to be left alone.

They'd had a late run this day. Some of the baby formula had been spoilt and they needed to get some quickly. So the run had been rushed and last minute and they hadn't returned until late.

A lot of the older folks were sleeping when they returned.

They talked in hushed voices and Carol and Beth dished food up for those that had missed out earlier and they ate huddled together, relieved the run had been successful.

She hadn't really been intentionally watching him. She supposed her eye often went to him.

They only had one another now. They were the two spares in the group and no one else would watch out for them like they'd watch out for one another.

So as she sat watching him casually as she cleaned one of the pots.

And she saw it happen. Saw how the sadness washed over him, consumed him completely.

He didn't even finish his meal before he was up and moving across the room.

He didn't usually leave quite so abruptly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Seemed his need to go was greater this evening. Rick called out after him but it went unanswered and a heavy silence remained with them.

"I'll go and check on him," Carol said discarding the pot.

"You sure that's a good idea. You know how he gets," Beth gently reminded her.

Carol smiled at the young woman. "I won't have to say a word. He'll either want to see me or he won't." And she didn't waste another moment following Daryl's path up the stairs and to his cell.

He was sat there, waiting for her, so it seemed.

She smiled at him but he didn't return it.

"He could have had a chance here," he started.

"Merle?" she asked quietly, even though she knew. He nodded.

"I wanted him to come here. Knew if he got a chance, he could make up for all of the shit that happened. Didn't get enough time."

"No. There's never enough time any more."

"I wanted my brother back," he muttered.

"Oh Daryl," Carol muttered as she came over and sat beside him.

But he didn't want her sympathy. "Just go. Get out!" He barked at her as he stood up and pulled at her arm. He wouldn't look at her as she made her way out of the cell, leaning on the wall just outside the door.

She could hear him still.

His strained sobs he tried to keep at bay.

He didn't want her to see him upset.

He didn't take long to calm himself back down. And she couldn't hear him any more.

"Carol?" he asked quietly.

"I'm still here," she replied, just as quietly. She stayed on the other side of the wall.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. It didn't make it less sincere.

"I know. I'm sorry too."


	5. Chapter 5

This story is a kinda continuation of Chapter Three... the one with the scary warnings and stuff. It's short and kinda essential to get a grasp of what's happening here.

* * *

No one was supposed to find him.

Especially any of them. But there she stood, katana drawn but held down and her face showing all the shock she felt.

Daryl?"

And all he wanted to do was shrink away, somehow disappear into the background and be anywhere but here.

He was crouched by the creek, using his hands to draw the water to his mouth.

Someone was approaching the woman, and he used their distraction to run, darting into the creek and then into the trees, knowing he'd lose her easily enough.

Rick stepped up beside Michonne, noticed her expression. "What's wrong?"

"I..." she faltered. Realised what she was about to say, the impact it would have on the man beside her. "I think I just saw Daryl."

oOo

Daryl's bolted return to their camp raised more than a few eyebrows.

Martinez gave The Governor a concerned look and it took one quick head nod in the direction Daryl had come from to get a group of men out scouring the area for what sent the man back so swiftly.

Thee camp was fenced off. A large building housed the group.

But it wasn't big enough for all of them and a number of tents littered the grounds.

That was where Daryl would be. He only came inside when The Governor requested him too.

And only stayed when he wanted to use him all night.

He didn't have to keep him chained up or locked away any longer.

Seemed that once he broke him down enough he stayed.  
He'd petted his head once, like a dog done good. And the pathetic thing had craved the little gesture. Craved any affection really.  
And so he got him. He treated him like a damn dog and it was good enough.

He became some loyal thing.

The Governor stepped into the opening of the tent.

He didn't have a door to his tent. Had to make sure that he knew he was bottom of the chain here.

"What did you see?" The Governor demanded.

He didn't speak much. Only when he had to or was commanded too. Like now.

"Them." Was all Daryl said as he huddled down into the corner of the tent, arms wrapped around knees.

A scream cut through the camp and there was a flurry of movement as his men readied themselves.

"Come," The Governor beckoned as he headed to the gate. Daryl trailed behind the man, staying close and behind him.

"Let him go," Rick demanded.

The Governor smirked. "There's no prisoners here," he said and stepped aside, exposing Daryl behind him. "You see any chains, Rick?"

"Daryl?" he whispered not quite believing his eyes.

He was skinnier, hair messier than the last time he saw him. But it was Daryl.

"What have you done to him?" Michonne asked.

"I saved him. Left behind at the prison, alone. Locked in a cell. Did you do that, Rick?"

"We didn't leave him behind," Rick shouted back.

"Yes, I'm sure he locked himself in that cell."

"Daryl, I..." Rick took a step forward, tried to address the man himself but he took a step back behind The Governor. Away from Rick. Out of sight.

"You've done this to him." Rick said, pointing to The Governor.

"You want him, take him. Just an extra mouth to feed."

And The Governor spun round and his hand clamped on the back of Daryl's neck, moved him forward and pushed him out towards Rick and Michonne.

And as soon as the momentum left him, Daryl stopped dead between the two. Head craned round to the side, eyes on The Governor. Too afraid to look towards the people in front of him.

"Daryl? You can't stay here with them.." Michonne started.

"Don't look like he wants to go anywhere to me," one of the governor's men said.

"I'll make this easier," The Governor said and grabbed Daryl's neck again, drove him forward and shoved him forward into Rick and Michonne.

Phillip watched with glee as Daryl panicked when he realised he was being turned away. "I can get anyone to do what you did here," The Governor replied with a smirk.

**... to be continued?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Continuation from the last chapter. There's apparently a mini run in with all these drabbles.

* * *

"I don't get it." Rick said, huffing. "Why hand him over?"

"Why not?" Carl said with a shrug.

Rick and Michonne had managed to get back to their own camp with Daryl. It wasn't until they got him into a car that either had really noticed the smell. Sweat and sex.

Maggie had lured Daryl from the car and taken him to clean up in the working shower block they had.

Rick gestured for Carl to continue with his thoughts on Daryl. "He's taken one of the people we relied on heavily and turned him into... that. He's not gonna be going out hunting and killing for us. All we got from it is an extra mouth to feed."

"Hey, that's still Daryl," Rick reminded his son, The same words The Governor used hitting him hard. Daryl wouldn't be a burden to them. Not now they got him back.

The youngster nodded. "I know. I'm glad he's back, really. I missed him."

oOo

Maggie had tried to get Daryl to clean himself up, to do something himself but he seemed numb and too shocked to do anything.

She cringed as she slowly removed his clothes, leaving him almost naked but the boxers he wore. He was a little bruised but otherwise, he looked okay.

She used a bucket and a cloth to clean his skin as he sat semi-naked in the bathtub, shivering. She tried to think that the cold water made him shake but he'd been shaking the whole time.

She did her best to wash his hair but it was matted in places, the length having increased slightly. Someone must have been keeping Daryl cleaned up as he didn't look like a prisoner.

Rick and Michonne had said the same thing themselves.

Maggie grabbed the towel she'd placed beside her before she started cleaning Daryl up and wrapped it around him. He didn't move and she grabbed for the clean clothes she'd bought in with her.

Maggie held onto his upper arm and armpit and hauled him up, Daryl assisting when she made him move.

She helped him to step out of the tub. She helped Daryl to hold the towel over himself while she pulled his underwear down. He stepped out of it without her needing to move him to one side and she was grateful.

She held open the new boxers for him and he stepped into them and she pulled them up.

She thought they'd made progress. Daryl doing some small things for himself. But as she let the waistband of the boxers fit around Daryl's lean stomach, she noticed the scowl on his face.

He looked confused and angry at her and she stepped away from him suddenly, unsure of what he might do.

Her movements startled him and he stepped back, the towel catching on his feet and he fell down hard. She stepped one foot forward before stopping, waiting.

Daryl kept his eyes on her and Maggie lowered herself so he didn't have to look up at her.

"Hey, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you."

Maggie went to reach for the clothes she'd got for him, to pass them over, but whether Daryl misinterpreted her intentions, she wasn't sure, but he struck out at her, two of three blows landing on her head and upper body before she managed to move back away from his reach. He didn't try and go after her, just sat, half huddled in the towel.

She hadn't realised she had called out but Michonne was pulling on the door handle looking alarmed. "Maggie?"

"I'm okay," Maggie said, getting up on shaken legs. Nevertheless she stayed closed to Michonne.

Maggie and Michonne stepped out of the way allowing Rick to step in.

And they all saw a look of absolute fear break out on Daryl's features.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I've just got back from a two week holiday, hence my disappearance. But I'm back and ready to crack on with this strange mini-run that I started. Enjoy!

* * *

"Give us some space," Rick whispered to Maggie and Michonne as the pair left Rick to deal with the wild hunter.

"Be careful," Maggie told him before they left the men alone, closing the door behind her to give them some privacy.

Rick lowered himself down to Daryl's eye level, not that the man would look at him, and he reached his hand towards Daryl, not to touch him, but to catch his eye. Daryl looked at the hand reaching out towards him, eyes quickly flicking up to Rick's face before the fleeting glance went away, head turned away from Rick.

"Daryl, you remember us, right? I know you've been gone a while, but we spent a lot of time together before that... and you saw Michonne and you ran. You ran back to The Governor."

At the mention of the man's name, Daryl looked towards Rick. Maybe there was some hope in those blue eyes now which turned Rick's stomach.

"He turned you out, Daryl. Remember that? He wasn't interested in you and helping you, he wanted you out of the way." Daryl shook his head at that, a blank refusal to believe Rick's words. "We thought you were dead... that's why we didn't... we didn't try..." Rick felt the guilt choke his words.

How could he explain this.

"Dad!" He heard a whispered voice behind him and turned to see Carl, eyes hard. Rick moved over towards his son. "You can't lay all that on him. Let me talk to him. Daryl's always been different with me. He always tries. It might be easier."

Rick nodded and moved out of the way, let Carl take over.

Carl moved over and sat beside Daryl, pulling the towel up over him a little more.

He saw something in Daryl's eyes change, some of that lost, frightened fog in his eyes cleared as he recognized the boy beside him.

"Carl?"

The boy nodded, smiled. "Everyone says I've gone through a growth spurt. Surprised you recognised me."

Daryl looked at the boy for a moment, his brow scrunched up in concern before he looked away, down at the ground. He didn't know what to say to him, to any of them.

Carl held the clothes that Maggie had gathered for Daryl earlier out to him.

"It's the first step, right?"

Daryl took the clothes but made no attempt to dress himself. "Where's everyone else?" he asked quietly.

Carl looked down for a moment. "This is it. All that's left."

"Four of you?"

Carl nodded. "Dad, Maggie, Michonne and me. And now you."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Carl. "I'm not with you."

And before Carl could ask Daryl what he meant by that, he felt the hunter's elbow connect with his nose, a sickening crunch before it was followed up with a blow to his head.

Then everything was black.

TBC...

A/N: *Ahem* Mwahahahahahahahahaha. It's good to be back. :D


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Tiny teeny but as I've deprived you for som long you can have two hits in one day. 'Kay? :D

* * *

"Carl? Is everything okay in there?"

Rick listened at the door for a response and heard nothing. Maggie and Michonne are watching, concerned as he, is from a distance.

"I'm coming in, okay?" Rick said as he turned the handle. "Carl!"

Hearing Rick's tone, Maggie and Michonne got up and raced towards the door. They were met with the same thing Rick had seen seconds before. An empty room with blood on the floor.

"What the hell happened?" Maggie said, frantic with worry.

"They must have gone through there," Michonne said, pointing to the other exit.

oOo

"Boss, you're gonna wanna see this." One of the guards said at the door to Phillip's room.

"What is it?" Phillip asked, not looking from his work.

"Dixon came back. Dragging some kid with him."

oOo

The boy was stirring when Phillip reached them.

He fought of the hands that held him. Daryl didn't seem to notice.

"Grimes boy?" Phillip smirked. Turning to Daryl he nodded his head. "You did good. I was wrong. Go wait for me."

Carl watched as Daryl disappeared from his sight and he was left with The Governor and three of his guards.

"Today's the day we end this. Once and for all."

TBC...

* * *

What do we think? Daryl betrays the prison group, is he that far gone? Was it all a set up by The Governor and Daryl?  
Or maybe Daryl has realised TG is nothing but bad and is trying to get back at him...

I don't even know what I'm going to do with this one. :D


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl heard the shouting, the gunfire.

He ducked down beside the bed at first but when the noises grew louder, he new he needed to find a better place to hide.

The en-suite bathroom provided that place and he locked himself inside. Waited.

"Daryl?!"

He recognised the angry tone. Images of his Daddy flashed in Daryl's mind, even though he knew it was Rick.

He could hear a softer female voice trying to calm Rick but Rick just called for him again, sounding impossibly angrier than before. Daryl didn't move.

"Fine, you want it that way. Say goodbye, Phillip.

The gun fire echoed through the room and a body hit the ground. Daryl didn't even think as he unlocked the door and sought out the body.

He saw Phillip on the ground, but not how he expected.

The man was bloody and bruised but not dead. Not shot.  
He wasn't.  
The blast from Rick's gun pierced through The Governor's skull and sent a mess of blood and matter into the carpet before the man's body slumped to the ground.

"I wanted you to see that," Rick said before turning and walking out.

oOo

Michonne waited with Carl while Rick left to find Daryl.

He returned looking as pissed off as when he had left to find the other man.

"Did you kill them?" Carl asked.

"The Governor." Rick replied, his jaw clenched tightly.

"You can't leave him there like that," Maggie said.

"Are you kidding me? I don't want him anywhere near any of us right now. He's lucky he's still breathing." Rick spat out.

"You can't leave him alone," Maggie restated. "It's Daryl."

Something in her tone made Rick look towards her and he saw she couldn't give up on him, despite what he'd done. He turned to Michonne and Carl, hoping to see something more rational.

"You could have died," he pointedly told Carl.

"I didn't."

"We can't trust him," Rick added.

"Tie him up then." Maggie said. "He'll die in there if we leave him behind."

Rick looked to Michonne. She nodded. "It's still Daryl. You've just got to remind him who he is."

Rick let out a sigh, feeling defeated. "Fine."

Carl nodded at his father. Smiled.  
Knew this was one of those times when doing the right thing wasn't the easy thing.

* * *

**A/N:** So I'll leave this to popular opinion... continue or leave it here?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes: **I took a couple of days off from this to work on a new project (not writing, pony modifying... if you know me on tumblr then you'll know what they hell I'm talking about). I thought I'd let this grow for a while and see what I came up with.

Here we go again.

* * *

They found a house.

It had enough space so they could have a room for Rick and Carl, and Maggie and Michonne, and Daryl could have his own.

Rick picked the smallest, barest room there. He made sure he secured it himself. Took out everything but the bed. Blocked up the windows too.

And once they put him in the room, he didn't come out.

They settled. Once they had food, some traps set, then the issue of Daryl came up again.

It was after they'd settled for an evening, before the night watch needed to start and once they'd eaten. Michonne had excused herself and come back with the bowl of food Maggie had left for Daryl. It was as full as when she'd left it, only the water bottle had been taken.

She'd noticed that Daryl only took a little food when he needed too.

"We need to do something," she told the others, putting the bowl of food aside. She felt like they were on the verge of losing him. It was hard though. They'd already come to terms with Daryl's demise after the lost the prison. And the man who sheltered alongside them was so far removed from the hunter they'd known, she wondered if they'd even grieve for him again.

"What can we do?" Rick said. He didn't seem interested in trying. They all knew Rick didn't want to trust Daryl again after how close they came to losing Carl. His indifference to the man's mental state scared Michonne.

"Rick, we all know what we saw when we bought him back here. The abuse." She would let her gaze waver from Rick's and she saw guilt and pain flash across Rick's eyes briefly before he stowed them away. "He can't deal with this shut in a room."

"I'm not the one shutting him in there," Rick defended.

Maggie had stayed silent, pulling at a loose thread from the jacket she wore, but she couldn't hold back any more. "You didn't see what I did when I cleaned him up, Rick. I didn't want to see. I know he had scars before. Daddy had told me one time, a long time ago. Back when we were at the farm. But these were new. All over his lower back and thighs." Maggie swallowed the lump that seemed to be rising in her throat, lowering her voice as she continued. "He did that to him. He took him back to a time where he was helpless and made him feel it again. And then he made him think that he cared. And that he didn't have anyone else." Maggie barely noticed the tears that ran down her face. Didn't wipe them away.

Rick sighed, rubbed a hand across his face. He hoped they might think it was from tiredness and not Maggie's words that caused the moisture to well in his eyes. But the idea of trusting Daryl again right now wasn't something he thought he was ready for.

"Maybe tomorrow, I can try and get him to go on a run with me." Michonne suggested.

"Just the two of you?"

"I don't think crowding him is a good idea."

"Turning your back isn't either." Rick reminded her.

"I'll be careful."

oOo

The heavy thud woke everyone up.

Rick was on watch and he motioned for the others to stay where they were.

Unlike them, he knew where the sound came from. Using a flashlight he headed upstairs.

He'd heard the floorboards upstairs creaking as Daryl crept across to the bathroom. Daryl always waited until the middle of the night to clean himself up.

Rick quietly made his way upstairs and opened the bathroom door. He was slightly surprised to find it unlocked and even more surprised that Daryl sat in a heap in the middle of the floor.

His eyes darted across to the door and then downwards when he saw Rick there.

In the brief seconds they'd made eye contact, Rick had seen the fear again and Daryl huddled up.

Rick closed the door and grabbed the towel from the back of it. he noted there was no lock on the door and it made sense now why Daryl came in the middle of the night to clean up. Except the fact that he'd not been very discreet this night.

Rick passed the beam of light over Daryl. His skin was wet as he sat naked on the floor and Rick dropped the towel down onto the man, half covering him with it. Daryl didn't move an inch as Rick watched him, light shining down on him.

He knew he was intimidating standing over him like that and at first, he couldn't find it in himself to care that much. But as Daryl refused to move even slightly under his glare, Rick lowered himself down.

"You can't stay there all night," Rick said.

When Daryl made no attempt to move still, Rick's patience ran out. Grabbing Daryl by the arm, he pulled the hunter to his feet, taking the towel with the other hand and dragged him back across to his room. Once inside, he let go of Daryl's arm and dropped the towel at his feet, before he returned to the bathroom and picked up the flash lights he'd left in there. One of them was Daryl's the other his own. Rick flicked his flash light off, leaving the other to illuminate the room.

Daryl stood stiffly where Rick left him, body trembling in the cool night air. It didn't help that he was still dripping wet or the fact he was standing there naked towel still at his feet.

"God dammit, Daryl." Rick said, anger getting the better of him and he picked the towel up and thrust it into the man's hands. "Dry yourself!" he said, as though he were talking to a naughty child.

Rick closed his eyes to his own temper, missed the way Daryl gulped down his fear yet his lip quivered with fright.

It wasn't until Rick opened his eyes that he felt a wave of sympathy hit him. Daryl was drying himself like Rick had demanded and it was the first time he'd been able to see the scars Maggie mentioned.

They weren't especially big, but there were hundreds of small inch long scars covering Daryl's back and the back of his thighs. Rick was curious how far round they went but wasn't about to ask Daryl to turn so that he could see.

The most pathetic thing being that he knew if he asked it, Daryl would have done it.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered, eyes still fixed to the scars. "I'm so sorry."

Daryl froze at the words, looking just as frightened as before. He didn't know what Rick wanted from him, didn't know what would follow those words.

Rick flicked the flash light off and retreated from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **This is a little... maybe a lot of the ick. M rating for this chapter. Be warned.

_He'd been made to wait._

_The Governor told him to sit on the bed until he got back._

_So he did. He was still dressed, a shirt and his underwear being about as good as it got. He sat waiting, knees raised, pressed together_

_When the other man eventually showed up, he was rough._

_He caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath as he moved in close. He kneeled beside him as he rolled him onto his stomach and then straddled over him. _

_Daryl felt his boxers quickly pulled down before he was filled by The Governor. He was unprepared for it and it tore at him, The Governor being rougher than normal._

_When he started to speed up, getting closer to coming, he reached for something, and Daryl saw a flash of silver, a blade, before feeling the other man release inside of him._

_He quickly pulled out but held Daryl down with one hand on his back, moved his legs so that he straddled Daryl, pinned his legs down beneath his own. _

_"This might hurt a little," Phillip said as the knife bit into the flesh on Daryl's inner thigh. The skin parted so easily and clearly. He made a short cut but made sure it was deep._

_He wanted him to scar. "Daddy's not the only one who gets to mark you," Phillip whispered, his breath hot in Daryl's ear. He shuddered at the words, at the breath, at the smell of alcohol and all the terrible things his Daddy did to him. _

* * *

Rick had tried to sleep.

His watch finished but Daryl was running through his mind, over and over again. The constant nag of what to do with him pulling at Rick.

His encounter with Daryl earlier had shocked him, more then he'd cared to admit. Daryl's demeanour, his fear and vulnerability. And even Rick's own attitude. He'd been short tempered with his, lost his patience and he hated himself for it.

He should be grateful that he'd survived. So when sleep evaded him, he went and sat outside Daryl's room, hoping somehow closer proximity to him might help come up with a way out of this mess.

It didn't seem to help.

All that ran through his mind was the last few days with Daryl, but guilt had been mixed in with it too. He started thinking about how Daryl had been left by them, somehow locked in a cell, so The Governor had said.

Rick's thoughts were disputed by a cry in the room behind him. At first he thought Daryl had done something to injure himself, but as he listened, he realised that the other man was likely dreaming as he quietly muttered in his sleep.

Rick crept inside to see Daryl tossing and turning on the bed, sheets half kicked off. His brow was scrunched up in pain or maybe anger, Rick couldn't tell in the dim light.

He crept over quietly, hoping that Daryl might settle down again, but he just seemed to push the covers away more, his thrashing becoming more frantic.

"No... don'..." he muttered in his sleep.

Rick knew he needed to wake him, but he had to do it in a way that made Daryl feel safe. He crouched down beside him and gently gripped Daryl's shoulders, making sure he didn't pin him down.

He shook his slightly as he called his name.

"Daryl, wake up. It's Rick."

Far from the gentle waking up he'd hoped to achieve, Daryl bolted upright, breathing harshly, legs kicking away the sheets that were still draped across him.

Rick was still sat beside him and since he's not struggled from his grip, just the sheets he continued to keep hold of him, one arm across his chest now, hand resting on his shoulder and his other arm mirroring that position across his back.

He simply held Daryl as his breathing calmed and he felt the tension start to abate.

"Rick?" he asked, unsure. And to Rick's ears, it almost sounded like this was the Daryl that he used to know that he held close by.

"It's gonna be okay," Rick said, releasing his grip but remaining beside the hunter.

If he wanted to get Daryl back, he needed to start treating him like the old Daryl. "It's all gonna be okay. I promise."

TBC...

Uh-oh!... Rick promised things are gonna be okay. Surely that's the kiss of death, right?


	12. Chapter 12

This is traumatised Daryl at his best. because he's not going to just 'get over it', now, is he? Take this as your warning. Angsty, nasty, nasty stuff.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Rick found Daryl sat at the table in the old houses kitchen, a bottle of Southern Comfort in his hand.

He'd clearly already been drinking some so Rick guided him through to sit with the others, didn't want him to be sat alone drinking.

Michonne, who was sat near to Daryl tapped his arm and motioned for the bottle and the hunter passed it across to her. She took a swig before passing it to Maggie. It passed round to the others, Carl just taking a sniff and passing it to his Father before it was returned to Daryl.

He cradled the bottle slightly when it was returned to him, not keen to share it again. Because he needed it. To help him get to a state of numbness. Where nothing mattered any more.

Where nothing could hurt him. And he wasn't there yet.

And he wouldn't get there either. Couldn't.

He felt his resolve start to break. A whimper, pathetic even to his own alcohol sloshed mind, escaped his lips before he could stop it and the sob was escaping his chest, making it's way up his throat before he could stop it. And it forced it's way out of him.

Deafening in the silent room as he was overwhelmed by everything. The sobs wouldn't stop and it froze the room. It wasn't until that initial outburst was over that he calmed a little, his face a mess of tears and snot and sweat mixed together with the alcohol that escaped his lips with his own spit.

He didn't care. He was far beyond caring.

It was Rick who tried. Asked how Daryl ended up locked in a cell in the first place, how they left him to The Governor and Daryl didn't know. Couldn't understand how it had happened.

Maybe he'd known once. Maybe it had been his own fault and he felt too stupid to admit so he'd blocked it out. Whatever reason, he couldn't tell them.

But he started to recount exactly what had happened afterwards.

He'd take gulps of the whiskey, it helped him along with tales that he would be too ashamed to recount sober.

He started with the room that made him stay in at first, when The Governor waited for them to come after him. And when they realised that the group had fled, without Daryl, The Governor looked at him differently.

Told them how much he'd been hurt that first time. How he'd bled.

In his right mind, Daryl would never have said such things. Not to any of them. Especially not in front of Carl. But he wasn't in his right mind and he couldn't be, not with all this on him.

Rick realised the man's need to make them understand, so they could empathise with him. As much as he wanted to get the others to leave, to spare Daryl's humiliation and his regret, he thought they needed to hear it and walking out on Daryl during this would damage him, shame him more.

Once he started, he couldn't stop.

Told them The Governor would often come to his room, every few nights at first to fuck him. And he'd bleed every time.

He told them about the tents and how he was moved out when the building got too full.

How The Governor would often send for him and get one of his men to take him to The Governor's room. He remembered a day when The Governor had been particularly cruel, wanting Daryl to know his place, before he'd grown some weird attachment to him.

He'd sent him back outside to his tent naked.

He knew blood stained his legs and he wondered how worthwhile it would be trying to keep himself covered as he was lead out to his tent and left there, just his sleeping bag to keep him warm during the night.

But a guard clearly took pity, came in and threw an extra blanket over him. It helped.

He still shivered through the night, still ached, but it took the edge off.

But he never saw that guard again.

And there was another after that.

Who frequently started to take Daryl back and forth to The Governor.

Daryl was The Governor's property, everyone knew that. But this man had other ideas.

He started out groping him on the way to the room.

Just brief touches that sent shivers over Daryl's body, sickness coiling in his stomach.

And then he pushed it further.

Pushed a finger or two inside of him. He made him bleed, his abused body wrecked and it didn't take much for it to be torn apart again.

When he took him back after The Governor was done, he climbed into the tent with him. Pushed his way inside of Daryl and came quickly and with vicious thrusts.

And when he pulled out, stepped outside, he was met with The Governor's gun pointed towards him. He didn't get a chance to speak before his body was left on the ground.

He was an example to them all.

The Governor cleaned him up after that. Thoroughly.

It hurt so much he thought he'd pass out from the pain. And after that, The Governor started marking him.

And it was then that Michonne dropped down beside him. Touched his arm gently.

He hadn't said as much as he thought he had.

His mind not clear enough to distinguish what he was saying and what he was thinking. It came out as garbled sentences that made no real sense to the others, not after a while.

But they got enough from them, knew he'd faced some horrors while he'd been separated from them.

Could understand better why he was so afraid.

He still looked a mess, and she wiped her hand gently under his eye, one and then the other, removing his tears and she pulled him down towards her, let his head rest in her lap as his body tucked up close to her as possible. She soothed him gently, like she might a child, and he started to calm in her embrace.

Sleep didn't take long to wash over him. His exhaustion and the alcohol making sleep impossible to fight.

Once Daryl had drifted off, Carl was the first to get up and leave. Rick called out after him but the boy continued without a word.

"That was a bit intense," Maggie said, tears still in her eyes.

"It'll help him," Michonne said, confidently.

"We should move on tomorrow. Find a new place." Rick said. "I'll look over the maps in the morning, see if there's any places that look good."

The sound of footsteps heading there way indicated Carl's return. He smiled slightly to ease his Father's worried look he threw his way, before Carl draped Daryl's blanket he'd retrieved from his bed over the sleeping man's form.

"Thanks Carl," Michonne said, tucking it gently around him. Carl moved round and sat between beside his father, so that he was closer to Daryl and Michonne.

Rick gave Maggie a look before smiling to her. "You're not staying over there by yourself are you?"

She smiled before moving across the room and tucking in close beside Rick.

They were all that each of them had.

And they were determind to hang on to one another. For as long as they could.


End file.
